“You’ve been checking your phone a lot tonight.” Emmet mentions. I blush and stuff my phone back into the pocket of my apron and finish clearing off their table.
“I just thought my dad was going to be in town this week.” I say. I roll my eyes as a few girls giggle as they walk past the table. Lovestruck admirers also become normal around the twins.
“For Thanksgiving?” Emmet asks. Jake glances at me, and I remember our private conversation nearly a month ago.
“Yeah, but it’s not a big deal. David needed volunteers for the day anyways and I have nothing better to do.” Boxed wine and a TV marathon wasn’t the type of Thanksgiving I was hoping for anyways.
“You’re working here on Thanksgiving?” Jake asks. He winks at the girls, earning gasps and even a phone number hastily written on a napkin. I purse my lips and roll my eyes, trying to remind myself that I get an equal amount attention from my customers.
“Yeah.” I respond. “Noon to close. David said he had enough demands from last year for a Thanksgiving buffet, so all I’ll have to do is refill drinks and clean up the tables.”
“A Thanksgiving buffet.” Emmet frowns as I get their plates and carry them back to the kitchen. They leave shortly afterwards, and I close up the front of house with Camila and Charlie.
“Just three days until my spawned from hell parents are here for Thanksgiving.” Camila whines.
“Try having spawned from hell in-laws.” Charlie jokes. I keep quiet, not wanting to mope about my lack of family.
We say our goodbyes at the restaurant. Camila heads to the subway and I go to the shops downtown. Christmas decorations have been up for a while now, but it’s the first time I’ve been anywhere except my apartment, the grocery store, and the restaurant in weeks.
Red and green wreaths hang on all the lights that illuminate a very light snowfall. My shoes crunch the snow beneath them and I tighten my jacket as I window shop.
My tips from this week are enough to purchase a new laptop. I window shop until I find a twenty four hour electronics store with Christmas music blasting every time the doors open and close. I try to convince myself to go inside, but I consider what else I could use the money on. Just to ease my worries I ask a worker how much a laptop would run, telling him what exactly I would be using it for.
His answer is enough to make me walk away. Maybe after Thanksgiving I’ll be more willing to spoil myself.
Thanksgiving Day arrives shortly after, and I get ready for what probably is going to be a twelve-hour shift. I tame my corkscrews into a bun and throw on some makeup before rushing to work. The ground is covered in an inch of snow already, and it steadily falls as I walk to the station.
The restaurant is covered with soft blue lights that look like falling icicles. A decent number of cars are already parked out in front for it being Thanksgiving, but it only means more tips for me. I greet David, Sophie and Mike and head to the kitchens to see the back of house that volunteered along with us.
We all help with setting the buffet up at the back of the restaurant. Classic comfort food like turkey, ham, stuffing, potatoes and much more line up against the wall, and opposite it is the dessert table. I stare dreamily at it, already planning my plate for my hour break.
The restaurant opens and a decent number of people flood in. It’s mostly older couples I realize, and I’m extra sweet as I take them to their tables and grab their drinks.
I head back to the hostess’ podium to get the next group and pause mid step when it’s Jake and Emmet waiting for me.
“What are you doing here?” I practically yell.
“Well, that’s not the holiday spirit.” Jake mutters. “Are we seating ourselves?”
“Follow me?” I show them to their regular table, going over the buffet list. “You guys really have nothing better to do?”
“We don’t have any family in town.” Emmet says. Jake grunts something about not caring anyways and leaves to get food. “And as it’s a holiday, we have no meetings. It was Jake’s idea actually.” Emmet adds when his twin is gone. There’s something weird in his voice when he talks about his brother, like he’s restraining himself somehow.
They’re both festive in separate red and green holiday sweaters and jeans, though I have a feeling Jake had to be convinced to wear it. The green swirls in Emmet’s blue eyes are more pronounced in his green sweater, and he has a light dusting of facial hair over his chiseled jaw. Had I known they were going to show up I probably would have spent a bit more time on my own looks.
“We’re here all day.” Jake returns with a plate piled high with food. “Make sure the cooks don’t slack off.”